[Ménage Amour: Erotic BDSM Ménage a Trois Romance, M/M/F, sex toys]Megan Phillips is a woman in love with the unattainable: her neighbors, Jack and Quinn, men who are totally devoted to one another. Because she can’t have them, she spends her time at Esoteria, trying to find a man who will take control with love.

Jack and Quinn are a couple, but they're on the lookout for a woman to join their family. Both know Megan is that woman but don’t know how to ask her about it.

When Megan is hurt during a scene, Jack and Quinn reveal the truth of their relationship and lay down the law. If she is going to be submissive to anyone, it will be them. Though they know little of BDSM and what Megan needs as a submissive, they love her and only want what’s best for her.

Can they be what she needs? When the Dom who hurt Megan causes trouble, can they protect their woman from him?

Sunday, January 23, 2011

Driving Me Crazy is entertaining, funny, and skillfully written. The author packs well-drawn characters, conflict and climax into a short format. I was impressed, and even though I knew how it would end, I read it with a smile on my face. There's an excerpt below. Enjoy!

Blurb

They say that people in love do crazy things. Brandon Walker can certainly relate.

Lusting after Lee Cooper, his sexy driving instructor, isn't the most sensible reason for failing his driving test for the third time and when he discovers the damage he has inadvertently done to his instructor's reputation and business, Brandon knows that he is on his last chance.

After persuading Lee to give him one final course of driving lessons Brandon makes it his priority to figure out if the spark he feels between them is one-sided or whether he can persuade his sexy instructor to move their lessons from the front seat of the car to the back.

The heavy rain of the previous night had almost completely gone by the time Brandon Walker took to the roads for his driving test. The sun was out and the rush hour traffic jams had cleared for the morning. Conditions were almost perfect. The driving test was going well — too well, in fact. Brandon could see his examiner, Gerald Harris, nodding approvingly from the corner of his eye. This wouldn't do at all.

The lights up ahead were changing to red, so he did what many drivers chose to do in that situation — he put his foot down and raced through them.

"You really shouldn't do that," Gerald told him reprovingly, looking and sounding like Brandon's father. "I know we all do it from time to time, but it's not advisable."

"Does that mean I've failed the test?"

Gerald shook his head. "No, that isn't bad enough to force me to fail you. Just keep going and try not to do it again."

Damn. Brandon willed his mobile phone to ring. Reaching to answer it would further hinder his chances of passing; something he had discovered during his second driving test. Unfortunately, the phone remained silent.

At the next set of lights he pulled up behind several other cars and waited for the green light. He had to think of something and he had to do it fast.

"Keep going to the next set of lights, then turn left, please."

Brandon nodded, thinking his way along the route ahead. They were heading for the bypass. There weren't many sets of traffic lights in the direction they were going, and Brandon couldn't guarantee they would be changing at the right time for him to run them. He wondered if a bit of impromptu road rage would make any difference. He couldn't see the driver of the car in front of him very well; he could only tell the person behind the wheel was male. Would he take the bait if Brandon goaded him a little?

There was only one way to find out. The lights changed to green, and when the car in front of him didn't move immediately Brandon hit the horn. "Come on Grandpa, get a fucking move on!"

Beside him Gerald gasped, but other than that he didn't react. The driver of the car in front gave him the finger and Brandon hit the horn again. The other car finally moved, but at a snail's pace. Brandon rejoiced inwardly when he realised the driver of the other car was deliberately keeping the pace slow to irritate him.

"What are you driving, a golf cart? Find another fucking gear!" He could hear Gerald's tut-tut beside him. "Can you believe this jerk?"

Gerald declined to comment.

They carried on at the same slow place, Brandon hitting the horn on several occasions to see if he could goad the other driver a little more.

When they approached the turn for the bypass Brandon silently cheered to see the other car pull into the lane alongside him, clearly going in the same direction.

The bypass was popular with the teenage boys in the area who liked to race their cars against each other late at night. Brandon wondered if challenging the other driver would be going a little too far. Then he remembered he needed to fail the test, or else he'd never see him again. A race would be enough for a serious or dangerous fault, or at least he hoped so.

Gerald shook his head and made a note on his test paper.

Brandon glanced at the paper out of the corner of his eye. He wished he could tell if a fault had been recorded. Unfortunately he couldn't quite see from this angle. Up ahead the traffic lights turned to red as he approached them. Brandon knew it was far too late to run them. Instead he pulled the car level with the other one and turned to take a good look at the driver. He was younger than Brandon and clearly pissed off at his antics.

"Hey, why don't you stick to the bus?" the stranger called across. "If that's what they're teaching you in driver training, there's no hope for the rest of us."

Brandon flipped him off. "Why don't you come over here and say that?"

The guy ignored him and revved his engine instead.

"Race you to the village," Brandon called.

"I really don't think that would be appropriate or advisable," Gerald interrupted. "Not if you want to pass your test today."

From the way he spoke Gerald made it clear that Brandon, despite his antics, might actually manage to scrape a pass on his test. His mind made up, he turned back to the other driver. "First one to the footbridge?" he suggested. A moment later the youth nodded in agreement.

Brandon grinned and sat back to wait for the green light.

Gerald shook his head. "Don't you want to pass your test?"

It was on the tip of his tongue to say that he didn't, but that would mean more questions, none of which he wanted to answer. As long as he failed, everything would be okay.

Sunday, January 16, 2011

Safe and Sound is a hot collection. These sexually explicit MM stories include ménage and submissive themes. They’re inventive and the writing fulfills and exceeds expectations. If you enjoy the genre these erotic tales will definitely entertain you.

Safe And Sound by Alex K Bell

I should be thinking about the bigger picture now, how lucky I am to be alive, how grateful I am for my rescue, how great it will be when I get to see my friends and family, but all I can think about is the stranger’s big hands, stroking my chest with slow sensuous movements, knowingly teasing me.

Kit Bag by J L Merrow

Working at a gym, Kit has ample opportunity to fantasise about the well-built men he sees. What he doesn't know is that two of them have noticed his attention, and they decide to make his fantasies a reality in the changing room after closing time.

The Kennel Club by John ConnorIn 1929 things weren’t what they are today, as I found out when I visited my old friend Mickey at a very special Gentleman’s Club. Mickey’s “dog” Rufus was slim, blond and 5ft 6, but I never saw him stand upright. He stayed at crotch level, and he proved himself to be a very talented boy indeed when it came to obeying his master’s every command.

Surfing Down Under by Eva Hore

Tired with partying in Australia, all I really want is a quiet sunbathe, but then I stumble across a nudist beach and I decided to get an all over tan. I don’t bargain on just how much of a turn on it is to be nude in the hot sun. But with the arrival of a mysterious lover the action gets a whole lot steamier.

Float Your Boat by Landon Dixon

When Brendan goes fishing with his new boyfriend, Evan, he’s expecting to reel him in, but neither of them are expecting their love making to be quite so overboard. Luckily they are rescued by Evan’s ex, Greg, but are there now too many fish in the sea. Who will get the prize catch and who will end up being the one that got away?

When Janis dumps her cheating boyfriend, her biological clock starts ticking louder than Big Ben. Her sister-in-law snagged both of her twin brothers, but she can’t hang onto one man. Then two drop-dead sexy men walk into her office. Too bad they turn out to be gay--and Lycan.

Janis’s cherry-pie red acrylic nails dug into her palms. She tried to look nonchalant while she scanned the hotel ballroom.

Dammit, Roy. Where the hell are you?

One minute he’d been standing by her side eating stuffed mushroom caps and mini-hotdogs, and the next, he had his cell phone to his ear, already walking away and mumbling something unintelligible.

Shit! Shit! Shit! Her first real New Year’s date in eons, and she was destined to stand in the corner alone at midnight.

The floor-to-ceiling windows framed fireworks that lit up the sky, and over her head, multicolored balloons swarmed, waiting for their cue. But the magical night had all but lost its luster.

Janis felt like Cinderella at the ball. At the stroke of twelve, the spell would be broken, and instead of a prince by her side, she’d be alone like always. She should have known that having a man like Roy interested in her was too good to be true.

“Ten!”

A drink would help. She made her way to the bar and asked for one glass of champagne. The bartender gave her a pitying look as he handed over the flute. Did everyone here feel sorry for her? The last thing she wanted on New Year’s Eve was a pity party. Screw them. At least she wasn’t working.

“Nine!”

Janis took a sip and peered over the rim of her glass. She spotted Roy headed her way, and her eyes went heavenward.

Thank you, Lord!

She plastered a smile on her face and promised herself she wouldn’t bawl him out.

“Eight!”

Roy blithely sidestepped other partygoers in his haste. Maybe he did have an important call. She really had to stop belittling herself.

“Seven!”

She downed the rest of her champagne and set the glass on the bar. Determined to be by Roy’s side at midnight, she started walking toward him.

He really did look handsome in his black suit. The lab coat he usually wore over khakis and a button-down shirt didn’t do him justice. And the air of confidence about him added to his allure. He looked like he was in his element, whereas she was definitely out of hers.

“Six!”

Suddenly, a hand reached out and clutched Roy’s arm, stopping him in his tracks. His head swiveled to see who’d waylaid him. A stunning redhead with Mae West curves flashed a big smile, grabbed the back of Roy’s head, and glued her mouth to his.

“Five!”

Janis clenched her teeth so hard she swore she heard the enamel crack. She wanted to pull the skanky bitch off her date and slap her silly.

“Four!”

She’d seen the woman once before. But she’d been wearing a white nurse’s uniform instead of a strapless black cocktail dress that fit her like a second skin. She sat at a reception desk in front of Roy’s office and acted like his guard dog.

“Three!”

Maybe Roy needed a guard dog. His status at Philadelphia Hospital had grown since some mysterious benefactor funded a new addition. With the building complete, Roy had been named head of the Foundation for Infertility and Reproductive Medicine. The FIRM turned out to be a major coup for the hospital. The sprawling complex that had once been a public charity hospital had gained new respect and became a major player in the world of research. Roy had high hopes of achieving a major breakthrough in the treatment of infertility.

“Two!”

She’d been so thrilled when Roy asked her to be his date. He’d chosen to share his success with her and show her off to his colleagues. Now it looked like she was being played as his second fiddle.

“Happy New Year!”

At the stroke of midnight, popping balloons sent streams of confetti pouring over the excited crowd. She lost sight of Roy and the redhead, and she bit back hot tears.

Going to California. It’s three thousand miles nearer to hell.Mountain man Cormack Bowmaker meets up with Zelnora Sparks on the eve of California’s great rush—the discovery of gold. Zelnora is fleeing from her mentor, the mighty businessman Brannagh. They are being shadowed by the most scandalous Spanish bandit in the frontier.Joaquin Valenzuela wants to rob them of their gold, but soon discovers a desire for much more. Californians call for the pickled head of Valenzuela in a jar, but his passion for the two Americans overpowers his zeal for mayhem. They band together in their quest for riches, love, and the good life. Bowmaker is a sharpshooter, his aim true. Valenzuela will slit the throat of anyone who wanders by. Zelnora knows where to find the gold. And Brannagh will do everything it takes to stop them.They are about to discover the frontier—within themselves.

This new release is offered at a 15% discount for four weeks from SirenBookstrand:

Bigler came racing forward before they even reached the store, brandishing the eagle feather quill in his hand. “Sister Sparks! I do believe I’ve found gold at the mill!”“Keep your hollering down,” Cormack reminded him.He was proud of the calm way Zelnora took this news. “Well, Brother Bigler, we’ll just have to do some investigation then, won’t we?”She released his arm when they entered the store. Erskine, Quartus, and the redhead Miss Mercy Narrimore canoodled by the counter, drinking whiskey from the looks of it, and paying no mind to the gold as Zelnora marched into a back room and came back with some items that she slapped onto the counter.“The Indians I’ve spoken to here at the fort have known about gold in these parts for many generations,” Zelnora said, accepting the eagle quill from Bigler. “The gold is supposed to be guarded by evil spirits. There’s a lake not far from here with plenty of gold, but there is a fearful animal, a sort of dragon who likes human flesh.” She poured the little nuggets onto a tray which she carried to the only window, turning it this way and that with one eye closed. Next, she took out an eyepiece to examine the crystals more closely.Cormack and Bigler exchanged greedy looks. “Can you find out where this lake is located?” Cormack asked Zelnora.“I sure can try.”Bringing the tray back to the counter, she said, “I spoke to one of Sutter’s workers not long ago. From Hermosillo in Mexico. He told me we can find pounds of gold in quartz veins in the Sierra. One would only need a batea, which as far as I can tell is just a simple wooden bowl for washing the gold. He just kept saying batea, batea.”“Can you locate this fellow?” Bigler asked tremulously.Zelnora, eyes still affixed to the gold nuggets, blindly reached for Cormack’s bowie knife on his belt. He assisted by handing it to her. “I sure can try,” she said quietly, vaguely, holding one of the tiny nuggets on the counter and scratching its surface with the knife blade.Quartus came wobbling over now, curious. “I can find gold with my divining rod!” he again declared, bolstered by a healthy application of “bug juice.” Fortunately, he fell silent then, fascinated by the doings of his wife. Her next step was to vigorously rub a nugget against the wooden countertop, then sniff it. The men became alarmed when she reached for a steel hammer and, with one bang, flattened a nugget on the tray.Bigler cried, “What are you doing?”A slow smile radiated across her face as she gradually stood to an upright position. Her eyes were fixed only on Cormack, however, when she said in a reverent tone, “This is gold.”Bigler let out a walloping yee-haw to the heavens above while Quartus leaped up and down clapping his hands, twirling around in little circles chanting, “Gold! Gold! Gold!” to the same tune as the earlier song about Jake Herring thumping it. Even Erskine and Mercy ceased their canoodling and swiveled their heads with interest toward all the commotion.Without tearing her shining, wide eyes from Cormack, Zelnora came round the counter and grabbed the front of his shirt in her fists. She fairly stood on tiptoes in her zeal. She resembled a lovely Madonna with her round brown eyes, her gleaming curls escaping from the mantle of her rebozo. “Cormack,” she whispered. He could barely hear her under the ecclesiastical hollering of the two gold-crazed converts. Now even Erskine was clapping Bigler on the back as Mercy set out more tin cups for whiskey. “Gold. Gold. Do you know what this means? From the size and character of those specimens, that area seems to be much richer than the gold fields of Georgia! It must have washed down from the mountains during the recent torrents. Where descending waters meet an obstacle or projecting rock, in the riverbed and also the declivities, we can find pockets of gold. Gold!”Gold. Cormack kissed Zelnora, sweetly and gently, loving her with his mouth. He kissed her again and again as she grasped his shirtfront, nearly melting into him. Ho, boy, was he a perverted old hard case to get an erection when they had just discovered gold? He should be more concerned about his future riches. Gold, gold, gold…As Quartus was now performing some new movement of polka steps, Zelnora broke away and walloped her husband a backhand across the chest. “Cheese it, Quartus! Captain Sutter told us to keep quiet any news of a mineral strike—there are bandits roaming the countryside ready to stick knives in us like porcupines if they hear of this.”At the mention of “bandits” Quartus stopped his dance. His round eyes behind the spectacles spoke of his romantic reverence for highwaymen. “Bandits? Bear’s ass!” And he stumbled off to get some more bug juice.“Sister Sparks!” bellowed Bigler, holding his tin cup up on high. “You are absolutely certain of this, then?”“Oh, yes, Henry! This gold is of the finest quality, perhaps twenty-three carats. Give me some of that whiskey!”At that moment, the door’s bell tinkled, and a local corncracker and a Californio entered, beaming from ear to ear in puzzlement at the spontaneous spree in Brannagh’s store. “Miss Sparks!” the farmer called. “What’s all the hubbub? Did we get a new supply of Forty Rod?”Ho, boy, Forty Rod. Just a whiff of that firewater would kill a man at that distance, even around a corner. To distract the farmer, Zelnora went into the back room with the tray of gold and brought forth a presumably good bottle of some liquor.Shoving it at the farmer, Zelnora said, “This brandy is of the quality that the Duke of Orleans drinks, Mr. Leese. Try some. Mercy, give the men cups.” Returning to Cormack’s side, she whispered fiercely, “Cormack. We simply must go back to Coloma and see to what extent this gold pans out. If we discover it’s worth pursuing, we build what’s known as a rocker, a sort of cradle to facilitate the process. But we can’t let anyone see what we’re doing. How will you hide it from Marshall?”Cormack tipped his head to one side. Marshall? Who gave a flying fuck about Marshall? It was easy enough to hide the gold signs from him. “More to the point, Zelnora…What about Brannagh? If you come up to Coloma, what will you tell him?”“He’s away for yet another week and a half. That’s plenty of time, right?”Cormack thought, and nodded. “Viva Carlos Quinto!” the Californio cried at the taste of the Duke of Orleans’ brandy.Death or glory! ADULT EXCERPTCormack lowered the neckline of Zelnora’s chemise so that one plump breast bounced free. She smiled leonine to indicate her approval as Cormack urged Joaquin’s face toward her. “Effective methods, you would say?”Joaquin licked between Zelnora’s breasts slowly with a fat tongue. Watching another man lick his woman aroused Cormack, wondering what Zelnora must feel having a strange man accost her while her fiancé watched. She grinned lazily, gripping Joaquin’s shoulders with her fingertips. Cormack slid one sure palm around the slope of Joaquin’s luscious ass, running two fingers between his spread thighs to tickle the sensitive bulge between his balls and asshole.Joaquin muttered, “You have very effective methods, pelirrojo,” before diving down to slurp Zelnora’s nipple into his mouth.Ho, boy, Cormack wanted to feel that dark, hot pole in his fist again. He was no longer ashamed to enjoy the hard plumpness of another man’s stimulated prick as it pulsated in his grip. But tonight he needed to please Zelnora. He wanted her to esteem Joaquin just as much as he did, and that would mean risking his own jealousy while watching the bandit pleasure his woman.“It would distress me if you needed assistance mounting,” Cormack murmured into Joaquin’s ear.Zelnora was inching up her skirts. He was slightly shocked to hear her salaciously say, “Joaquin needs no assistance mounting.”Cormack nibbled on the velvety side of Joaquin’s neck. “Kiss her,” he commanded.It was odd, watching Joaquin clamp his lips over Zelnora’s eager mouth. Cormack’s instant reaction was to yank a handful of Joaquin’s hair till his neck snapped and paste him in the nose. He stayed this overwhelming feeling by deepening the bites to Joaquin’s neck and unbuttoning his calzoneras with long, nimble fingers.He would direct Joaquin. If he was the one guiding their actions, he reckoned he would not feel this possessive envy whenever Joaquin laid a hand on Zelnora. So he squiggled his tongue up and down the side of Joaquin’s strong neck while sliding a palm down his belly to unleash his cock. Fingering the long, dusky prick caused Joaquin to rock his hips, pressing his erection into Cormack’s hand, deepening his wet kisses upon Zelnora. With his thumb, Cormack described unctuous wreaths about the crown of the prick, making Joaquin gasp against Zelnora’s mouth and gooseflesh sprinkle the globes of his curvaceous butt.Cormack revealed his own cock, desiring to rub drops of semen against that succulent ass. It was no different than rubbing against a woman’s backside, after all, although Cormack could not fool himself that he did not handle a slick, hot penis. The sweaty meat pulsated as Joaquin humped his palm, Cormack rotating his pumping as though milking a cow, up, down, and over the tip of the erection. The bandit’s pleasured moaning incited Cormack to release his own ecstatic growls while he nibbled on his earlobe, daring to glide the entire length of his mammoth penis against that juicy ass. Joaquin grunted, whether with approval or not, Cormack only knew by the sudden pulsing of the cock in his hand. As Zelnora’s thighs were spread and she panted invitingly, teats bouncing happily, Cormack urged the quivering prick toward her pussy.Joaquin was pressed between the two lovers. Perhaps as it would have taken too much effort to complain or extricate himself, he allowed Cormack’s massaging fingers to guide him to Zelnora’s honeypot, and with a deep groan, he entered her to the hilt.“Ah, eres una mujer encantadora,” Joaquin uttered against Zelnora’s mouth.Cormack was surprised to hear Zelnora reply in Spanish also. “Eres una hombre apuesto,” she sighed. You are a beautiful man.Now that he had his friend pleasantly seated, to further stave off the jealousy that a foreign body lay atop his fiancée, Cormack thought it only equitable to pleasure himself against that delicious raw butt, uplifted for his taking. Plunging his hand between the outspread thighs, he cupped the pulsating testicles in his palm, abrading their fullness with loving squeezes and mushy caresses. Joaquin fucked Zelnora slowly, holding himself up on his elbows and gazing down into her face, eyes locked on to hers. Only occasionally did his pupils quiver and contract with ecstasy. Otherwise, he was the picture of concentration, as though he wished to remember every pore on his beloved’s face.Ho, boy, the buoyant succulence of Joaquin’s ass as Cormack smeared his quivering cock over the trembling, meaty muscles. He could gratify himself against that ass—why not? It would be nearly the same as fucking Zelnora himself, to hump that delicious butt in tandem with Joaquin’s thrusts. Arousing the bulging balls with his palm, Cormack positioned himself gently atop the desperado and lunged his hips, stroking his cock against the smooth flank.“That’s good, Cormack,” Zelnora urged sweetly, without removing her gaze from Joaquin’s. “Fuck his heavenly rump. Revenge yourself for how he shamed you.”Fuck another man? That thought had not occurred to Cormack—at least, not today, so far. Yet the idea filled him with such lust, he nearly climaxed against the resilient ass, and it seemed that Joaquin spread his thighs even wider to signal his acceptance. Yes, he would revenge himself for that public cock-slapping he’d received, when several odious brigands had stood around with erect pricks enjoying the sight of Joaquin demeaning his pride, as well as his stiff and yearning penis.Greasing up his pole with spittle, Cormack gently fingered the tight opening. Had Joaquin debased other men in this manner before? He was certain this snug passage had never accommodated another man’s cock. When he slid a finger up the ass, shocked at the slick heat clutching him, Joaquin inhaled sharply, but did not alter the slow, languid fucking he was giving Zelnora.Cormack growled against the other man’s throat. “You like that, you debauched bandit? I’m doggone if you ain’t dreamed of having a prick up this tight little ass. I’ll fill you up,” he gasped when he pressed the crown of his penis against the opening, “with a bucket of my hot seed, while I—”“Fuck me like a man, Cormack.”Joaquin’s imperious demand rang out in the little cabin, divine with elegant Castilian tones. It was a command Cormack could not ignore, and he humped his prick farther up the blistering asshole. Joaquin seemed to lose his control then. His head slumped forward on a rubbery neck, and he choked on his moans. Not even Zelnora’s nearly virginal pussy had been as hot and tight as this, and it was beyond ecstasy to feel against the underside of his prick the throbbing of Joaquin’s bulging penis inside Zel. He would erupt soon if he did not still himself, but a few more jabs of his bursting prick and Joaquin was jetting spurt after spurt inside the woman.He could feel it! How odd, the flow of semen up Joaquin’s prick, the clutching at his own prick, the twitching and spasms urging and milking an orgasm from him.“There. How’s that.” Cormack moaned in staccato sentences. “You want this. A man’s jism inside. Your sweet ass. Go ahead. Spew that jism. You want it. You. Want. Me.”“Fuck me, Cormack.”

Thursday, January 6, 2011

I absolutely love this book! As soon as I read the excerpt I had to download it on my Kindle. The development of the two men as a couple was so well done. It starts off with a disastrous blind date between two men who couldn't be more different and takes you through their evolving relationship - an emotional rollercoaster.

When Jonathan Kechter agrees to a blind date with Cole Fenton, he expects nothing morethan dinner and a one-night stand… but he gets more than he bargained for in Cole. Cole is arrogant, flamboyant, and definitely not Jon’s type. Still, when Cole suggests an arrangement of getting together for casual sex whenever they’re both in town, Jon readily agrees.

Their arrangement may be casual, but Jonathan soon learns that when it comes to Cole Fenton, nothing is easy. Between Cole’s fear of intimacy and his wandering lifestyle, Jonathan wonders if their relationship may be doomed from the start—but the more Cole pushes him away, the more determined Jon is to make it work.

****

“We could have strawberries for dessert,” Cole said, picking up one of the little plastic containers of fruit and smelling it. “They’re perfectly ripe. You can tell just by the smell. Here.”

He held the container up to my nose. The smell of strawberries was associated with him so strongly in my mind, and upon smelling them I immediately thought of how it felt to have his thin body underneath me, to be inside of him, to have my nose buried in his cinnamon-colored hair.

And suddenly, I had a raging hard-on.

What the hell? I was in the middle of the grocery store! I turned toward the racks of produce to hide my predicament from anybody who might be looking my way. I closed my eyes and tried to think of baseball. Or mowing the lawn. Or anything but the way he smelled, and the sounds he made when—

I glanced over to find his eyes on me, and not surprisingly, they were full of laughter. “It’s you,” I whispered in embarrassment.

“Me?”

“Your hair.” He still looked a little bit confused, and I had to say, “It smells like your hair!”

I saw the comprehension in his eyes. I could also see how much it pleased him. “Strawberries,” he said. “That’s very interesting. Anything else?”

I felt my cheeks turning red as I thought again about his hair—the color this time, rather than the smell—and his skin. “Cinnamon,” I admitted quietly. “And caramel.”

Now he really looked amused. “All that’s missing is the whipped cream.”

And that of course brought a whole new set of images to mind. And those images did absolutely nothing to alleviate the tightness in my groin. “You’re not helping,” I hissed at him and he laughed.

“I wasn’t trying to, love.” He stepped closer, stood on his toes a little so he could whisper in my ear, “Too bad you’re stuck here. If we make it home in time, I might let you have dessert first.”

“Still not helping.”

“Would this be a bad time to tell you how much I’ve been thinking about your ties lately?”

“Oh my god,” I moaned, and he laughed. I pushed him away, which only made him laugh louder. I grabbed the basket from him. If I carried it strategically it would cover the embarrassing bulge in my pants. “Can we hurry this up?”

“Anything you want, love,” he said in amusement. He turned and headed further into the grocery store, and I followed behind. I figured wandering through the aisles behind him would help take my mind off of sex. As long as we didn’t encounter any more strawberries. Or cinnamon. Or caramel. Or whipped cream.

Yeah, this was going to work.

Especially since he was in front of me, and I could see that butterfly on the back of his neck and the curve of his back where it arched into the soft globes of his ass. I was driving myself crazy, and he was laughing at me the entire time.

We finally had everything he said he needed, plus the strawberries—we had to go back to the produce section to get them, which didn’t help—and we each carried a bag of groceries back to my car, which was parked near the back of the lot.

“You’re absolutely cruel,” I told him as we put the bags in the back seat, and he laughed again. We got in, but before I could start the car, he took my keys from me. “What are you doing?” I asked.

He leaned over and put his lips against my ear. One of his slender hands went to the buttons on my jeans. “I’m making up for being cruel,” he whispered.

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Delilah Devlin’s books are always on my must read list and I’m about to devour this new release - RAVISHED BY A VIKING - as soon as I finish writing my blog posts.

****

What a Viking wants, a Viking takes.

When his younger brother goes missing, Dagr, Viking warrior and Lord of the Wolfskin Clan, will do whatever it takes to get him back. But nothing could have prepared him for Honora—a feisty, intelligent woman who is nothing like the women of his world—women who are content to serve their men in all things. Drawn to her despite her recalcitrant nature, Dagr is determined to show her who’s boss both in bed and out.

When the two enemies-turned-lovers join forces to find Dagr’s brother they are thrown into a rousing adventure full of danger, intrigue and erotic abandon. Can their passion truly unite them or will their different worlds lead to destruction for them both?

Visit Delilah on the web to read an excerpt and learn more about this release:

Monday, January 3, 2011

Sweet Surrender is a fabulous new romance by one of my favorite writers - Victoria Blisse. Victoria's characters are real and the stories are hot! Enjoy this excerpt today. Visit http://galestanley.blogspot.com/ on Wednesday. Victoria will be talking about Scarborough andthe story behind her story.

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She doesn’t know what she wants but he does.

How do you mend a broken heart?

Helen goes on holiday to Scarborough and meets Tom. He is an attractive local artist who takes Helen on a tour of the sweet seaside town. Tom becomes more than just her guide as his dominant nature brings out her own submissive side and a shared joy of exhibitionism.

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Excerpt:

The smiling seaside town of Scarborough seemed to be filled with reminders that she was alone, when she should have had a partner with her. The romantic double bed in the highest room of the guesthouse, the look on the receptionist’s face when she’d explained that she was on her own. The restaurant table set for two. The seemingly hundreds of couples strolling hand in hand along the bright, sunny seafront. She hated it all, so she’d retired to her room until the sun was setting and the singles came out in force. It was Saturday night and the bars were packed. She stepped into the first one not hosting karaoke and ordered a Bacardi and Coke. She was determined to get drunk and start enjoying this holiday if it killed her.

Moments later, she held back tears, realising how pathetic she must look. Thirty years old, single and surrounded by happy youngsters flirting, gossiping and pairing up. She prepared to rise,determined togo back to the hotel and pack with the intention of boarding the first train home in the morning, when a man appeared at her table.

“Hi, I’m terribly sorry for just approaching you like this, but I’d noticed you’d finished your drink and wondered if I could get you another whilst I’m on my way back to the bar?”

He was smiling, the slight flush to his cheeks giving him a boyish charm quite impossible to resist.

“Okay, I’ll have another Bacardi and Coke, thanks.” She smiled at him, her tummy flipping.

He looked a little older than her, dressed casually in dark-coloured slacks and a pinstripe shirt. He was well groomed, smelt citrus fresh with a tempting spicy edge and was obviously interestedin her. She wasn’t looking to hook up with another drain on her finances, but spending a moment in his company couldn’t do any harm, could it?

“So, you’re not a local, are you?” He said on his return, sitting down on the stool next to her.

“No, I’m not,” she replied, not really wanting to elaborate.

“That’s good. I like pretty tourists. They’ve not heard of my reputation.” His easy and encompassing smile lit up his deep, dark eyes.

“And what reputation would that be, then?” she flirted back, involuntary pulled in by his charm.

“Oh, for being a right gentleman, of course,” he replied, putting on a broad Yorkshire accent, hiding his posher, milder one.

She had forgotten her ex for the first time in weeks, and was enjoying the first flushes of flirtation, something she’d experienced far too few times in her life.

“I’m an artist,” he replied. “I paint, I sculpt, but mostly I take photographs.”

“There is a lot of beautiful scenery around here. It’s a good place for an artist.” She took a sip of her drink, and let her eyes linger over the strong, soft hand gripping his pint.

“And beautiful women.” He grinned, his cheeks dimpling. “Scenery is nice, but on its own, it is unimaginative. Now put together an attractive lady and beautiful scenery and you’ve got magic.”

“You just like ogling the feminine form, then,” she teased.

He was silent for a moment. His solemn face made her wonder if she’d offended him until he broke into another, unending smile.

“Yeah, that’s about it.”

The conversation came easily, and the flirting flowed from both sides, mingling and interchanging effortlessly. It was the perfect meeting, everything you want in a first date—tension, controlled lust, shared conversation, and the ease that comes from such a chance meeting. No pressure, and absolutely nothing to lose.

“I’ve not seen much of Scarborough yet, I only arrived today.” She said in answer to a simple question posed to her. “I’m here for a long weekend though, so I hope to see a bit of it before I leave.”

“Well, let me offer you my services as a guide. I know all the beautiful places and I would love to show them to you. I’d love to take some photos of you, if you’d permit me to.”

The flattery was working, but she was wary of saying yes to a stranger, especially a stranger who evoked such a strong sexual need deep inside her.

He must have noticed the indecision in her manner and added, “We can meet at the harbour of the south bay at mid day. It’ll be packed at that time on a Saturday, so you’ll not have to worry about being alone with me. I promise, you’ll have a good time.”

His eyes captured hers and there was something in their blue-lagoon depths that made her unable to look away and unable to say no, even though she sensed danger. The madness of it all sealed her decision. She said yes and swore not to regret it for a moment. As they made their way out of the pub, she put her hand on his arm.

“And just so I know, what’s your name?”

“Tom.” He smiled. “And yours?”

“Helen.”

“I shall see you tomorrow, Helen.” He grinned, laying a soft, non-threatening kiss on her cheek.

Helen thought about the kiss all the way back to her hotel, then all the time she was showering and putting on her pajamas. She thought about it as she lay in the big, wide double bed and smiled. Tomorrow was going to be fun and she was beginning to really enjoy this holiday.